


Practice Makes Perfect

by Therapeutic_Steter



Series: Prompt Fics [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Gen, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12449991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Therapeutic_Steter/pseuds/Therapeutic_Steter
Summary: queensolaire asked: I especially love your BAMF!stiles against fae. Can we have another drabble like that? Maybe this time with some interaction Steter? Or anything with BAMF!Stiles in general xD Thank you and have a nice day! :)





	Practice Makes Perfect

“Hey, Dad?”

John looked up, spotting his son leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. He adjusted his reading glasses. “Yeah, son?”

“I’m eighteen now.”

John frowned. “Yes,” he nodded. “I know that, Stiles. We threw you a party last Saturday.”

Stiles laughed. “No, dad, I mean I’m eighteen! You promised you would take me to the range and teach me how to shoot after I turned eighteen!”

John paled.

“Come on,” Stiles pouted. “I won’t do that bad.”

“I’m not going to get out of this, am I?” John sighed, brushing his hands through his hair tiredly.

“Nope!” Stiles popped the ‘p’ obnoxiously.

“The new recruits are going to the range Saturday. Be there at seven a.m. sharp.”

“Will do, daddio!”

John sent up a silent prayer.

…

Stiles came in at six thirty a.m., panting. John stood from where he’d been eating breakfast. “Stiles? Is everything all right? Are you just getting home? What happened?”

Stiles shuffled out of his shoes. “What? No, everything’s fine. What are you talking about?”

“Are you just getting home?” John repeated. “The Pack keep you out all night?”

“No?” Stiles answered, looking confused. “I just went for a run.”

“A run?” John asked. “Since when?”

“Uh, for weeks now?” Stiles shrugged, stretching out his legs. “I figured I might as well build my stamina, what for all the running for my life I end up doing.”

John frowned in concern. “Is there something new in town?”

Stiles shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Nope, it’s all clear for now, pops. Just trying to stay ahead of the game.”

“Oh. Well okay then.” John sat back down. “Just…be careful.”

“I will!” Stiles called before heading upstairs for a shower.

…

A loud crash from upstairs had John rushing from his chair, his gun in his hand as he push opened Stiles’ door.

“Ah! Dad! Don’t shoot!”

John huffed in exasperation, trying to get his heart to calm down as he face palmed. “What’d you do?” he asked defeatedly.

“I was practicing some moves.”

“Moves,” John deadpanned.

“Like, fighting moves.” Stiles waved at where his lamp and school books were scattered over the ground. His computer chair was on its side, wheels spinning wildly. “My room is…kind of not big enough.”

John didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t. “What fighting moves?”

“I’ve been teaching myself to fight. YouTube has been surprisingly helpful. Plus I’ve been looking into some military training sites for their training menus. There’s a lot of good fighting techniques for when you’re going against someone bigger or stronger than you. I figured it couldn’t hurt, just in case I ever find myself facing a wolf or a kanima or something on my own again. Might buy myself a few extra seconds for the calvary to arrive.”

John’s heart hurt at the idea of his son being left alone to deal with any of the creatures that chose Beacon Hills as their hunting ground. “Please tell me you’re not going to go off alone and get in trouble.”

Stiles grinned. “I promise, I’m not. I just want to be prepared.”

“I should’ve signed you up for the boy’s scouts.” John shook his head wearily. “I need a beer.”

“Only one!” Stiles shouted behind him as he headed back for the living room.

…

Peter huffed, ducking under the swipe of the vampire’s claws and slashing its stomach with his claws. The vampire hissed and Peter ducked as another vampire made a reach for his head. He wiped at the blood dripping into his eye quickly, trying to back away even as the coven swarmed around him.

The rest of the Pack was busy in their own fights. The coven was at least ten strong and vampires were naturally faster than werewolves. Coupled with their also increased healing, this was turning into a long drawn out match. Scott and Isaac were fending off two, fighting back to back. Erica and Boyd had teamed up against one they’d managed to separate from the coven, while Derek was being surrounded by four. Peter had three circling him and he crouched down in preparation of an attack.

Flashing lights earned everyone’s attention before a familiar blue jeep came crashing into the fray, easily running over two vamps that were away from the main group, trying to get the jump on Derek. Peter almost groaned. Of them all, he liked Stiles the most, but honestly the human needed to learn when to leave the fighting to them. Now they had an extra liability on the field, even if the boy had taken care of two of the creatures with his clever maneuvering.

Stiles stepped out of the driver’s side door, relaxed in his walk. His bat was slung over his shoulder and he grinned easily as the vampires focused on his, eyes hungrily taking in the weak human who was walking calmly to his death.

“Stiles, get out of here!” Derek ordered, tackling one of the vampires who’d been closest. Stiles rolled his eyes, gripping his bat steadily and studiously taking in the rest of the coven. Peter paused. He knew that look in the boy’s eyes. Seemed he had a plan and Peter was interested in seeing what the crafty human had in mind.

Peter leapt onto the back of one creature that had focused on Stiles, ripping into its flesh and digging until he could grip the cold hard heart. He tore it from the vampires flesh victoriously before he yelped, startled, as another vampire dug into his side. He swatted at it, trying to get free, and it bit into his forearm. He roared.

Then the vampire let go. He looked down to realize Stiles’ bat had connected with its’ head. The boy moved confidently. He swung with steel in his gaze, crushing an unsuspecting vampire’s skull before he kicked it in the chest, forcing the limp body to interfere with another’s attack. Stiles bared his teeth in a wolf’s grin, vicious and unforgiving. Peter was captivated.

Scott yelled, trying to order Stiles to leave, but the human was like a whirlwind. He weaved among the battlefield, crushing kneecaps and dodging clawed hands. Peter barely managed to avoid the creature that had tried to attack him when he was distracted, momentarily losing sight of Stiles. When he had tossed the vampire away with a few broken bones, buying himself a moment to breathe, he couldn’t help but check on the human’s progress.

Peter’s breath caught when he saw a vampire snatch Stiles’ bat away, the boy left weaponless. Peter gritted his teeth, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain from the wound in his side as he tried to keep the vampires from overtaking him.

Stiles never faltered.

He ducked under a swipe meant for his neck, twisting to knock the vampire’s feet from under him, and pulling a gun from the back of his pants. Peter stared, wide-eyed, as he easily leveled the barrel at the vampire’s chest and pulled the trigger.

The sound was loud, jarring, and earned Stiles the attention of the battlefield. The human seemed to revel in it, cleanly dispatching two more vampires before the creatures buzzed with a hyperactive energy, ignoring the wolves to converge towards him.

The wolves attacked the diverted vampires and the rest of the coven went down easily. Stiles was left grinning proudly amidst the battleground, smoking gun at his side.

“Dude,” Scott breathed in disbelief.

“Not so weak now, am I?” Stiles mocked, flicking the safety back on and returning the gun to its holster.

“Very impressive,” Peter spoke up, ignoring the shocked looks from the other wolves at him giving a genuine comment.

“You’re damn right I was,” Stiles agreed, voice confident.

“When’d you learn those moves, batman?” Erica called out, slinging her arm around Stiles’ neck and leaning heavily on him.

“I’ve been practicing,” he shrugged her off, grinning abashedly. “Probably gave my dad a few heart attacks while do it, to be honest.” Stiles took a step towards his bat which was lying on the ground but tripped on air. He yelped, flailing wildly, and Peter rushed forward to catch him.

“Some things never change, hm?” Peter mused aloud, smirking teasingly.

“Not another word,” Stiles growled, blushing.

Peter chuckled, on instinct nuzzling the boy’s temple. “I wouldn’t mind having you cover my back in any future fights,” Peter murmured for his ears alone.

Stiles’ blush darkened, but he couldn’t help the goofy grin that split his lips. It felt good, finally being useful not just in the strategy meeting but in the fight too.

“Oh course, this means you get to help clean up too,” Peter drawled teasingly.

“What?” Stiles squawked, pulling away from the other man.

“You wanted to be involved,” Boyd stated. He smirked when Stiles gave him a betrayed look.

“But I’m just the human! You guys do all the heavy-lifting!”

“Not anymore,” Derek stated.

“Welcome to the clean-up crew,” Isaac mocked, clapping Stiles on the back.

“I hate you all,” Stiles groaned. His heart fluttered over the lie, but no one called him out.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me a prompt on [tumblr](https://therapeutic-steter.tumblr.com/)!


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